Masks do not feel
by FireAtWill52
Summary: Draco's P.O.V before he forfeits his life to Voldemort


This is little Draco Malfoy P.O.V thingy… quite depressing… hope you enjoy.

Masks cannot feel:

Draco Malfoy shivered as he followed his father, Lucius, down the eerie stone passageway. The torches, which were sitting in brackets on the walls, illuminated Draco's white blond hair, silver eyes and pale skin, but no matter how hard you looked you wouldn't be able to see the fear. Because Draco Malfoy didn't allow himself to show fear. He didn't even allow himself to _feel_ fear, unless he couldn't help it.

There was only one time before now he'd truly been afraid. It was when he'd come across a monster drinking unicorn blood in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, all the way back in his very First year. Now, seven years later, he was wishing he were back in the forest with that monster again. He'd rather be anywhere other than where he was right now. He rather do anything else other than what he was about to do.

He didn't want to be a Death Eater.

But he couldn't exactly do anything about it. It was his fate. It was his fate, and it had been decided for him long before his birth. He knew that not wanting to be a Death Eater was a very _very _bad thing for him to want. He'd known his whole life, that he would one day become one. So, why, all of a sudden, did he not want it to happen? He didn't know the answer to that question. But what he did know was that he was incapable of stopping what was about to take place.

Besides, it wasn't like he wanted to join Potty and Dumbledork and fight against the Dark Lord, did he? No, of course he didn't…but he didn't really want to be one of Voldemort's closest supporters either. But there was no time to go back anymore. His father had led him into a small, airless antechamber, and was now turning to look at Draco. "Put this on, son", Lucius said, handing Draco a long black robe. Draco hauled it on.

The sleeves came way past his hands, and the hem fell to the floor and settled there in folds. With one last look into the eyes of his only child and heir, Lucius lifted the hood over Draco's head. It covered his face, leaving his mouth and chin the only parts of his entire body that was exposed. Draco closed his eyes, not that he could see anything but the black interior of the hood anyway.

He felt two pairs of hands on his elbows, and he took a deep breath before he allowed himself to be directed into the next room, where his soon to be Lord awaited. Lucius strode ahead of him, up the narrow strip of stone floor that was lined with glowing green, silver and black candles. Behind the two rows of candles, silent and standing with what must have been painfully straight backs, were his fellow Death Eaters, all masked, just like Lucius was. Lucius quickly knelt in front of the throne like chair at the end of the pathway.

"Master, I bring you my son, Draco, to become your newest Death Eater."

"Bring him in," the cold voice echoed around the room. Draco was slowly led forward by, unbeknown to him, the two newest death Eaters before him, Theodore Nott and Adrian Pucey. He stumbled down the path, and then felt hands on his shoulders, helping him to kneel. Lucius stood and moved into his place with the other Death Eaters that were standing on the right hand side, in front of the Dark Lord's chair.

"So, boy, you wish to become one of my Death Eaters, just like your father and grandfather before you?" the cold voice asked. Every single fibre of Draco's being was screaming at him, to say 'No', to throw back the heavy hood, to spit in Voldemort's repulsive face, to run… but he didn't. He couldn't. "Yes, My Lord, I do," he whispered. The voice laughed, "Give me your arm, boy". Slowly, Draco held out his left forearm, and willed himself not to shriek, as something white hot branded his skin. He knew what it was. There was no possible way for him to escape now.

"Stand, boy, and take your place among your fellow Death Eaters," the voice of his Master commanded. Draco's hood was lifted back, the robe pulled off him, and in its place he was handed a mask. He stared down at it, hating it, and as he slowly raised it to his face, something occurred to him. He wasn't Draco Malfoy anymore. Nor was he a boy, nor was he free. He was now a Death Eater, and a man, a man who was condemned to this horrible destiny because he was too pathetic and frightened to break free when he'd had the opportunity.

Now his life was over. And he was powerless to do nothing, except watch it slip away from him, as he took his place among the Death Eaters standing on Voldemort's right hand side. His place, which was next to that of his father. Draco was completely empty now. All the feelings of anger, fear and sadness drained away from him, never to enter his body or mind or soul again. It was all over. His life, as he knew it, was all over. It was the end of Draco Lucius Malfoy. And the beginning of his life as a brand new Death Eater, because that's all he was now. A Death eater. But at least he wouldn't cry himself to sleep at night anymore. Because his father would no longer put him under the Cruciatus Curse until he bit through his lip with the pain and he wouldn't be beaten within an inch of his life anymore, either. Because now he was no longer Draco Lucius Malfoy. He was simply a face behind a mask. And masks do not cry, because masks are not granted the ability to feel.

Sooooo…. Did you like it?? I hope so… please review…. I'm becoming rather desperate…


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